Choices
by The Bookworm's Magician
Summary: You're sixteen years old and you've just made the worst mistake of your entire life.


**Beta: **Esther-Channah

**Spoilers:** For the episode "Vendetta."

**Disclaimer:** I don't own this, I never have, and I never will.

**AN:** This is, surprisingly, a pretty good show. Not great, but certainly not horrible. The italics in this are a stylistic choice, just so you know.

* * *

**Choices**

You're being born. The world is a cold and scary place, but the woman holding you is safe and warm. And then she's not. Instead, she's cold and still. You're still crying when the search party finds you, hours later.

* * *

You're eight days old and they've stopped the search for survivors. They'd identified you and your parents on your second day of existence. Their names were Brad and Jenny Chilton. Your mother was a scientist. Your father was a pilot. They'd both worked for SkywaveTech, one of the first companies to be bought out by KaneCo.

They'd both lost their jobs when that happened, and when construction of Deluxe had begun, they'd immediately moved Downstairs—as living in the ruins of Old Detroit was called. And there they'd stayed, until a section of the old city collapsed, taking their building with it.

The building's collapse forced your mother into premature labor and the stress of it killed her. All of the doctors say that you're lucky to be alive. They named you after your grandfather, since your parents weren't there to name you themselves. Then they moved you to the Orphanage.

They tell you none of this, of course. You're only eight days old, so you don't care anyway. But they also don't bother sending any of the information with you, so even when you're older, and begging the workers for information about your parents, they can't tell you anything.

But for now, you don't care. You're just sleeping.

They never find your father's body.

* * *

You're five years old and it's your first day of school. You're starting a year earlier that everyone else and it's kind of scary, but for some reason, people are saying that you're a _genius_. You don't know what that word means, but you do know that it makes people look at you differently and you don't think that you like that very much.

You deal with it and soon, you find that you like school, that you like learning new things. So you apply yourself, and focus on learning as much as possible.

* * *

You're seven years old and it's your first day in the Military Academy. You're just as nervous as you had been when entering regular school, but this time it's worse. They're still calling you a _genius_, but they've added other words now too, like _prodigy_ and _exceptional_. You don't know what those mean either, but you don't like it. Those words make people look at you weirdly and you don't like that. Not at all.

But you deal with the new words too, just like you've dealt with _genius_ for the past two years. It won't be fun, but you'll live.

* * *

You're ten years old and you're being marched down the halls of the Tower. You've been in the Academy for three years and they never told you what to do in this situation. You don't know why you've been called here, whether you're in trouble or not, and you're actually really nervous.

When you finally reach the top, you're sweating and shifting nervously. You walk in, a Guard on either side, and stop a few feet behind Mr. Kane. Mr. Kane has always looked really tall on Holovids, and in person he looks even taller. You shift and wish that you weren't so short for your age.

Mr. Kane sort of_ looms_ over you and starts asking you questions; questions about the Academy, about what you've learned there. About your life. You answer him as truthfully as you can, and you're glad that you do, because his face gets lighter and lighter. Eventually, he even crouches down so that you don't have to crane your neck to look at him (you don't know, at that point, that this is the last time he'll bother doing it for you. Right now, you're just happy that you don't have to look up anymore, 'cause your neck was starting to hurt).

When you're finished talking, he smiles at you and stands up, clapping his hands on your shoulders and turning you around to face the Guards. He announces, in a very loud voice, that you are going to be entering into training as a Guard, three years ahead of schedule.

They start clapping and then, you hear cheering and super-loud applause and you realize that Mr. Kane has made that an _official_ _Announcement_, and all of Deluxe has heard. You blush bright, bright red, and Mr. Kane chuckles. His hands squeeze your shoulders, and you look up as he looks down at you, smiles, and says that he knows you'll make him proud. And at that moment you want nothing more than to do that.

* * *

You're thirteen years old and watching from your Pod as the newest class of Guards—your actual yearmates—makes their way into the Tower. You've been in Guard training for three years now, and you're still enjoying it as much as when you started.

You're the same age as the nervous-looking cadets being led into the Tower, but from where you're standing, they look _so young_. You can't remember the last time that you felt so young. While part of you feels almost like going down and introducing yourself, you shake your head and push that part of yourself down as you turn away. Today is your first trip into the field, and you don't want to be late.

* * *

You're two months away from your fourteenth birthday and you've just run into one of your yearmates. He's blond, and still in his first year of training. He gapes at you, just a little bit, as you rush around, trying to gather all of your fallen equipment and apologize at the same time.

He laughs, but freezes when you turn to look at him. Then he desperately starts trying to help you, and that's when you know that he's heard the stories about you. You set a hand on his shoulder and he freezes again. Then his shoulders slump and he slowly turns to look at you.

_I'm not going to hurt you, you know. _You're glad that you've said something, 'cause something in the boy relaxes at that. _What's your name? Mine's Mike._

The boy smiles at you, and while it's cautious, it's still a smile. You smile back_. My name's Brandon._

Your smile gets bigger. You've never had a friend before, and you figure that it's about time that you got one. _Well, Brandon. I think that this is the start of a beautiful friendship._

* * *

You're sixteen years old, and it's the day before your graduation exam. You can't help but feel nervous as you clean your Pod and finished getting dressed for Inspection. You hear Brandon at the door, urging you to hurry, and you smile and finish zipping up your jacket as you follow after him.

Mr. Kane himself has come to do the Inspection today and you make sure to stand perfectly at attention as he passes by. He stops in front of you and asks if you're excited, and you answer truthfully. He chuckles and tells you that he's sure you'll make him proud.

You smile back and salute, telling him that you'll do your very best. He smiles, says that he's sure you will, and moves on. You stay at attention for a long moment, feeling a warm glow of happiness fill you.

* * *

You're sixteen years old and you've just been made a Commander. You move through the crowd, still feeling shell-shocked, and accept congratulations gracefully. As you go through, you can hear the whispers. People saying, _He's so young,_ and _A Guard at ten!_ and _Only did six years of training instead of the full seven, _and _Commander at sixteen!_ and— The whispers are cut off when Mr. Kane moves in front of you.

_Commander Chilton_, Mr. Kane says with a grin. _Follow me._

_Yes, sir!_ you say, full of gusto, and you salute quickly before following. He leads you to the Hall, where the name of every single person who has ever been in the Military is engraved on the walls.

The Stars and Sabers are on the wall at the front of the Hall and you look around at the names as you walk towards it. The names start with the Soldiers, and the Guards are up by the front, but there are only a few names on the wall surrounding the Stars and Sabers.

That's because that wall is reserved for Commanders, and you feel warm again when you realize that your name will be up there soon.

There are many names up on the walls and you feel sad when you see the names with the stars next to them. The stars mean that those people are dead—and they died serving Kane.

The names that are crossed out, though… those are traitors. Their names don't deserve to be up in the Hall at all, crossed out or not. Looking at those names does nothing but make you angry, so you look back at Mr. Kane instead.

Mr. Kane is staring at the Stars and Sabers, his hands clasped behind his back, and you salute him as you come up next to him. You and Mr. Kane converse for several minutes, and it's only when you turn to leave that you remember your promise to Brandon.

_Mr. Kane!_

Mr. Kane turns back around. _Yes, Commander Chilton?_

_It's about one of the cadets, sir._

Mr. Kane's brow furrows. _Has he been a problem? Do you think that he needs to be removed?_

You hurriedly shake your head. _No, no, sir! The opposite, actually. He's in his third year of training, so his field test is coming up. I was hoping that he could join me on my mission tomorrow. Brandon Smith is his name._

_Ah. One of your friends, hm? Very well, Commander. I'll let you give him the good news. Sleep well._

Mr. Kane leaves the Hall and you're left alone, with nothing but a bunch of names and a sudden bad feeling. You don't know what brought it on, but you shake it off as you leave the Hall to go find Brandon. Today's been a good day and hopefully, tomorrow will be even better.

* * *

You're sixteen years old and running through the ruins of old Detroit. You can hear the _clickwhirr_ of the TrackerBots as they follow you and you know that the Guards won't be far behind. You also know that they won't send out anything less than a full contingent, not for a—a _traitor_. Especially not for someone who was a Commander.

You're breathing pretty hard now, and you're not sure how much longer you can keep going. You see people, sometimes, out of the corner of your eye, but they always retreat when you try to get a better look. After seeing what Kane had been willing to do back there, you aren't surprised. You wouldn't trust anyone in a KaneCo uniform either.

You dive into the shell of a rotted-out building and try to catch your breath, as you listen to the TrackerBots head past.

_Psst, kid!_

You flinch and cautiously turn around to face the speaker. You're fighting every instinct you have, trying not to run, hoping that this guy won't call for the Guards.

You can barely see a man-shaped shadow hiding in the back of the building.

_Yes?_ He moves forward a little bit and you can see that he's old. _Can I help you?_

_Are you running from the Guards, kid?_

You flinch again. You've barely been holding yourself back from breaking down and having this guy bring up your recent betrayal isn't helping.

_Yes, I am. Please don't call them!_

The man finally steps into the light and walks toward you. Like you'd already noticed, he is _old_, maybe even the oldest man you'd ever seen. He has long gray hair and is wearing old clothes, like the clothes old bikers wore in some of the ancient Holovids you've seen. He chuckles a bit.

_I'm not going to call the Guards, kid. I don't particularly want their attention either. I just came to tell you that I can help you get away from them._

You narrow your eyes, studying him. He looks kind of familiar, but you know that you've never met him before. _Why should I trust you? You might be planning to betray me._

_Why would I do that, kid? If I really wanted to betray you, I'd be calling for the Guards right now. And besides, how do I know that you're not a plant, out to get __**me**__?_

You stare at him for a second before acknowledging the point. _All right. I'd appreciate the help._

The old man grins. _Alrighty then! Follow me._ You follow the old man through the back of the building and down the streets of old Detroit. Eventually, you end up in a lit-up building, one that looks like an old-fashioned diner and garage at the same time. The very first things that you see when you walk in are the cars.

You've seen cars on old Holovids, and shells of them on real-time Holovids of old Detroit, but this is the first time that you've seen real, new-looking cars _in person_. They're even more beautiful than you'd imagined.

_Whoa._ The old man looks to where you're staring and laughs. He pats the top of one.

_Beautiful, aren't they? Built them myself. Even training one of the kids over on the west section to build them too. He's pretty good; I'm thinking of letting him build his own soon._

You look from the old man to the cars in disbelief. _You built these? _

_Yep._

_Wow. I'd love to try driving one…_

The old man laughs again. _Hold your horses, kiddo. I don't even know your name! And besides, you must be hungry._

Your stomach growls and you glare at it in betra—anger as the man chuckles. You follow him into the diner-looking part and take a seat at the bar, as the old man puts some kind of meat onto an old-fashioned grill-thing. Your mouth waters from the scent.

_So, kid._

_Yes, old man? _

_Hey now, I'm not that old!_

_Yeah, and I'm not a kid. _

_Fine, fine. So, what's your name?_ the old man asks you, as he takes the meat off the grill-thing, puts it between some kind of bread, and slides the whole thing onto the plate in front of you. Your mouth waters again as you pick it up, and the minute you take a bite, you realize that this is the best thing you've ever tasted. You swallow so you can answer the question.

_My name's Mike Chilton. What's yours?_ You take another bite as you reply and your eyes slide closed in bliss, so you don't see the man's look of horror at your name.

_Mike Chilton? You're Mike Chilton?_

You frown as you hear the fear in the man's voice and open your eyes. The old man's gone pale and he's holding a glass in a white-knuckled grip.

_Yes. Is that a problem?_

The man laughs, but it's a breathy, shaky laugh._ No, no... It's just… why on Earth are you down here?_ You frown at him as your memories bubble up again, and you look back down at your suddenly-unappetizing meat sandwich.

_Kane and I… had a disagreement._

The old man frowns. _Why would you do that? You're his heir!_

You jerk your head up and gape at him. _What?_

The old man studies you. _You're his heir. Or __**were**__ his heir, I guess. Didn't you know?_

You sag in your seat, and you push the sandwich away. _No. I—He never told me. Why… Why would he make me his heir? He has a daughter! I don't even know him that well!_ You fold your hands and study them. _**Didn't**__ know him that well. I mean… He let me go through Guard training early, I guess, and I did meet with him once a month… But that was just to make sure that I wasn't burning out!_

The old man comes around the bar and takes a seat next to you, holding a glass of some kind of neon green liquid. He's silent for a long, long moment. You refuse to look up at him. Then he sighs.

_I don't know how to help you with this, kid. I can't say anything that will make this better. You've just lost all trust in the man who basically filled the 'father-figure' position in your life. _Your head jerks up and you look at him incredulously, but he just holds up a hand to silence you. _If it helps, though, it will get better. Maybe not fast, and you'll probably always feel pain when you think about it, but the hurt __**will**__ fade with time._

You muster up a small smile for the man. Although it isn't really what you want to hear, you can tell that his advice comes from the heart. _Thanks, old man._

_You're welcome, kid._ You sit there in silence for a while. Finally, the man sighs and downs the rest of his drink. _Besides, I've had experience with this._

_Oh?_ Your curiosity is piqued.

_Yeah. My name's Jacob; I used to be Kane's partner, before he started doing things I didn't approve of and I escaped down here._

He could've knocked you over with a feather after that statement. You stare at him in complete befuddlement. He looks back at you in turn.

_What?_

_You? You're __**Jacob**__? You're practically Criminal Number One!_

The old man just looks amused. _I am?_

_Yes! You're the first person the new Guards are warned about!_ You pause._ Did you really try to destroy the Tower when you left?_

The old m—_Jacob_ chuckles. _No, no… I did warn Kane that I would do my very best to tear down his Tower, though. That tale must have grown in the telling._

You nod. _That makes more sense, I guess. Still, I can't believe that you're __**Jacob**__! You're like a living legend!_

_Thanks, kid. You can still just call me Jacob, though._

_All right, old man._

He sighs, but it's tinged with amusement. You sit in silence again, but this time, it's more of a contented silence. You even find it in you to eat the rest of the meat sandwich. It's even good cold! You would've been happy to have this peace last forever, but it's over when Jacob gets up and walks around the bar to pour himself another drink.

He looks at you as he takes a sip. _So what're you gonna do now, Mike? You can't go back to Deluxe, I hope you realize that…_

_I know, Jacob._ Your face falls. _Trust me, I know. I've seen what they do to traitors. _

He sighs. _You would've, wouldn't you?_ It's a rhetorical question. _Either way, my question still stands: what're you gonna do now?_

It's your turn to sigh. _I don't know, Jacob. I just don't know. I can't go back Upstairs; Kane'll kill me. I can't stay Downstairs; no one here will ever trust me, not after what I did. _

_You'd be surprised, kid._ He studies you for a long moment, taking in your bedraggled hair, your ripped and dirt-covered KaneCo uniform, and your hopeless look.

_Why don't you stay here with me?_

Your gaze jerks up at him in surprise. _What?_

For a second, he seems almost as surprised as you; but then his expression firms, and he nods resolutely. _Stay here with me. You've got guts, kid. Not many people will deny Kane to his face; you did that __**and**__ fought back. Besides,_ his gaze softens, _you've got a good heart and I'd hate to see that go to waste._

You gape at him in astonishment and he holds out for a moment before bursting into laughter. He reaches out and whacks your shoulder. _Besides, I can always use another set of hands around here. So?_

You study him for a long, silent moment, taking in the long, gray hair, the bandana, and the faded, old-timey clothes. You look around at the diner/garage lit up with neon, the dilapidated Downstairs glittering with lights like fallen stars, and the darkness of the cavern ceiling high above. You look back at him.

_All right, Jacob. I'll stay Downstairs._

Jacob chuckles. _Excellent! But if you're gonna stay here, you have to call the city by its proper name._

_Oh?_ You're intrigued, now. You've never heard of the city being called anything but Downstairs or old Detroit. _It has another name?_

_Yep._ Jacob's smile is wide and proud. _It's Motorcity._

_Motorcity, huh?_ You think about it for a moment, and take another look over the city. _Motorcity. I like it._

_I'm glad, kid. I'm really glad. I'm sure that this place will feel like home in no time at all!_

_I hope so, Jacob. I really hope so…_

…The End…


End file.
